Review:
The Future of Another Timeline, by Annalee Newitz
Publisher: |
Tor |
Copyright: |
September 2019 |
ISBN: |
0-7653-9212-7 |
Format: |
Kindle |
Pages: |
350 |
Tess is a time traveler from 2022, a member of the semi-secret Daughters
of Harriet who are, under the cover of an academic research project,
attempting to modify the timeline to improve women's rights in the United
States. Beth is a teenager in suburban Irvine in Alta California, with an
abusive father, a tight-knit group of friends, and a love of feminist punk
rock. The story opens with both of them at a Grape Ape concert in 1992.
Beth is hanging out with her friends, and Tess is looking for signs of a
conspiracy to alter the timeline to further restrict the rights of women.
The Future of Another Timeline has a great science fiction premise.
There are time machines buried in geologically-stable bedrock that have
been there since before any current species evolved. The first was
discovered by humans thousands of years before the start of the story.
They can be controlled with vibrations in the rock and therefore don't
need any modern technology to operate. Humanity has therefore lived with
time travel for much of recorded history, albeit with a set of rules
strictly imposed by these mysterious machines: individuals can only travel
to their own time or earlier, and cannot carry any equipment with them.
The timeline at the start of the book is already not ours, and it shifts
further over the course of the plot.
Time travel has a potentially devastating effect on the foundations of
narrative, so most SF novels that let the genie of time travel out of the
bottle immediately start trying to stuff it back in again. Newitz does
not, which is a refreshing change. The past is not immutable, there is no
scientific or magical force that prevents history from changing, and
people do not manage to keep something with a history of thousands of
years either secret or well-controlled. It's not a free-for-all: There is
a Chronology Academy that sets some rules for time travelers, the Machines
themselves have rules that prevent time travel from being too casual, and
most countries have laws about what time travelers are allowed to do. But
it's also not horribly difficult to travel in time, not horribly uncommon
to come across someone from the future, and most of the rules are not
strictly enforced.
This does mean there are some things that one has to agree to not think
about. (To take the most obvious example, the lack of government and
military involvement in time travel is not believable, even given its
constraints. One has to accept this as a story premise.) But it removes
the claustrophobic rules-lawyering that's so common in time travel stories
and lets Newitz tell a more interesting political story about the
difficulty of achieving lasting social change.
Unfortunately, this is also one of those science fiction novels that is
much less interested in its premise and machinery than I was as a reader.
The Machines are fascinating objects: ancient, mysterious, and as we learn
more about them over the course of the story, rich with intriguing detail.
After reading this summary, you're probably curious where they came from,
what they can do, and how they work. So am I, after reading the book.
The Future of Another Timeline is completely uninterested in that
or any related question. About halfway through the book, a time traveler
from the future demonstrates interfaces in the time machines that no one
knew existed, the characters express some surprise, and then no one asks
any meaningful questions for the rest of the book. At another point, the
characters have the opportunity to see a Machine in something closer to
its original form before aspects of its interface have eroded away. They
learn just enough to solve their immediate plot problem and show no
further curiosity.
I found this immensely frustrating, in part due to the mixed signaling.
Normally if an author is going to use a science fiction idea as pure plot
device, they avoid spending much time on it, implicitly warning the reader
that this isn't where the story is going. Newitz instead provides the
little details and new revelations that normally signal that understanding
these objects will be a key to the plot, and then shrugs and walks away,
leaving every question unanswered.
Given how many people enjoyed
Rendezvous
with Rama, this apparently doesn't bother other readers as much as it
bothers me. If you are like me, though, be warned.
But, fine, this is a character story built around a plot device rather
than a technology story. That's a wholly valid mode of science fiction,
and that part of the book has heft. It reminded me of the second-wave
feminist science fiction of authors like
Russ
and
Charnas, except updated to modern politics.
The villains are a projection forward of the modern on-line misogynists
(incels, specifically), but Newitz makes the unusual choice of not
focusing on their motives or interior lives. They simply exist as a
malevolent hostile force, much the way that women experience them today
on-line. They have to be defeated, the characters of the book set out to
defeat them, and this is done without melodrama, hand-wringing, or
psychoanalysis. It's refreshingly straightforward and unambiguous, and it
keeps the focus on the people trying to make the world a better place
rather than on the redemption arc of some screaming asshole.
The part I was less enamored of is that these are two of the least
introspective first-person protagonists that I've seen in a book.
Normally, first-person perspective is used to provide a rich internal
monologue about external events, but both Tess and Beth tell their stories
as mostly-dry sequences of facts. Sometimes this includes a bit of what
they're feeling, but neither character delves much into the why or how.
This improves somewhat towards the end of the book, but I found the first
two-thirds of the story oddly flat and had a hard time generating much
interest in or sympathy for the characters. There are good in-story
reasons for both Tess and Beth to heavily suppress their emotions, so I
will not argue this is unrealistic, but character stories work better for
me with more of an emotional hook.
Hand-in-hand with that is the problem that the ending didn't provide the
catharsis that I was hoping for. Beth goes through absolute hell over the
course of the book, and while that does reach a resolution that I know
intellectually is the best type of resolution that her story can hope for,
it felt wholly insufficient. Tess's story reaches a somewhat more
satisfying conclusion, but one that reverses an earlier moral imperative
in a way that I found overly sudden. And everything about this book is
highly contingent and temporary in a way that is true to its theme and
political statement but that left me feeling more weary than satisfied.
That type of ending is a valid authorial choice, and to some extent my
complaint is only that this wasn't the book for me at the time I read it.
But I have read other books with similarly conditional endings and
withdrawn characters that still carried me along with the force and power
of the writing (
Daughters of the North
comes to mind).
The Future of Another Timeline is not poorly
written, but neither do I think it achieves that level of skill. The
writing is a bit wooden, the flow of sentences is a touch cliched and
predictable, and the characters are a bit thin. It's serviceable writing
had there been something else (such as a setting-as-character exploration
of the origins and purpose of the Machines) to grab my attention and pull
me along. But if the weight of the story has to be born by the quality of
the writing, I don't think it was quite up to the task.
Overall, I think
The Future of Another Timeline has a great premise
that it treats with frustrating indifference, a satisfyingly different
take on time travel with some obvious holes, some solid political ideas
reminiscent of an earlier age of feminist SF, a refreshing unwillingness
to center evil on its own terms, characters that took more than half the
book to develop much depth, and a suitable but frustrating ending. I can
see why other people liked it more than I did, but I can't recommend it.
Content warning: Rape, graphic violence, child abuse, gaslighting, graphic
medical procedure, suicide, extreme misogyny, and mutilation, and this is
spread throughout the book, not concentrated in one scene. I'm not very
squeamish about non-horror fiction and it was still rather a lot, so
please read with care.
Rating: 6 out of 10